So last night was the "Hemophilia Extravaganza," -slash-benefit, as Jess put it. It was quite a lot of fun. Sam and I forgot how to dress ourselves, and I had to try to put shoes on in a corset. "I CAN'T REACH MY FEET!!" and "I have birthing hips?!" being notorious quotes (they were able to balance a glass on my skirt pleats). We got to the hotel and a woman takes one look at us, and without even asking just says, "Tenth floor, then take a left." Amusing. We danced. They fed us. Three-course meal with coffee afterward. Heaven. Plus a Shakespeare game. A man offered to pay Matt for his answers -- and Matt took him up on it. Hilarious. Afterward we all just kind of crashed at Leland's (literally -- bodies were strewn across the floor) and played HALO. Fakes taught me to salsa; it was awesome. (Meanwhile, Chops and Gene compete for rocket launchers.) I think I've been more traumatised during the Friday/Saturday part of this weekend than an entire run of faire.

Sigh... I have crap to do. Blogging has lost some of its charm recently. I just feel like none of this is really interesting to anyone. After all, they're just a rendition of an individual's memories.

Did I mention a kitten got stuck in the fridge? ....Yeah. Took us about two or three minutes to figure out where the disembodied mewling was coming from.